Vote 1 the blonde chick from Moe

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Senate candidates chosen via reality TV? It may be just what politics needs, writes Tim Ferguson.

Brace yourself for a democratic rollercoaster ride. The Seven Network's Sunrise program will soon be airing its Pollstar segment. The format invites everyday people to compete, Aussie Idol-style, for a network-funded candidacy in the next federal election.

The major parties are scrambling to coerce Seven to ditch the format. The political game show, however, has every right to go to air. It may even improve public political awareness.

The concerns raised by the major parties question the show's legitimacy, message and process, its ramifications and dangers.

First, questions of bias and disproportionate attention delivered to the show's candidates have some weight. A network's love is a powerful thing. Conceivably, a chick from Moe whose only policy is beer-based will receive national, daily publicity, thanks to Pollstar. And not all of it will be policy discussion. Her garden will be made over by Johanna Griggs, Naomi Robson will chat with her about beauty products, Doctor Harry will groom her pit bull.

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The Pollstar candidates' gimmicks - wacky hair, silly hats, immigration policies - will become merchandising goldmines. (The ABC and SBS will have to tread carefully. Every minute given to one candidate by the government-funded networks may be demanded by every other candidate competing in the same electorate.)

That said, a peroxided chick in moccasins touting the rejuvenating virtues of VB has every right to generous media coverage. It may seem unfair in comparison to the sound bites afforded serious candidates, but this is politics. Fairness is not in the handbook.

The Pollstar format has been criticised for sending a message that trivialises the electoral process. But in the last federal election, nearly 10 per cent of registered voters voted informally or not at all. Fifteen per cent of voters claimed to have made up their minds in the ballot box. So it seems 25 per cent of voters have been trivialising the process without anyone's encouragement for years. What's a few more?

Yes, reality TV shows have never been perfect democracies. With enough budget and digital stamina, Moe chick's mum can SMS her daughter to glory. Yet, like an opinion poll, this game show is not the poll that counts. If voters want more moccies and bevvies in Parliament House, election day will show it.

There are conspiracy theories alleging networks fiddle with reality show voting results. But why would they? The viewers get what the viewers choose - what could rate better than that? The law of commercial television is simple - that which rates, however repugnant it may seem, is good.

Besides, all television networks can influence the population of the Parliament by good old-fashioned bias - no game-show candidates required.

The possible ramifications of the change to electoral campaigns Pollstar represents can already be seen in the media. Reality TV represents the democratisation of television.

Once, the lucky few with an OzTam ratings box were in charge of network programming and personalities. Today, anyone with a phone and 55 cents can take charge. Pollstar takes the leap from democratising entertainment to democracy as entertainment.

Until now, the $750 it costs to register as a senatorial candidate has acted as a repellent to flippant hopefuls. It's the only thing standing between us and a ballot as thick as a phone book. Seven will pay this prohibitive fee for Pollstar's winning candidates. Any contestant, no matter their station in life, could find themselves on the ballot.

If Pollstar is successful (in ratings, not electoral, terms), the 2007 federal election will bring manifestations of the format in other media. Any radio station or publication with $750 to spare will be free to choose its own Senate candidate. This may lead to more average people with no political affiliations or party restraints winning seats. No wonder the politicians are aghast.

Some of the dangers outlined by politicians are credible, but only because the major parties have proven them so.

First, the Trojan Horse Theory: sinister forces may inject seemingly innocuous candidates into Pollstar, only to have them reveal their true colours upon winning a Senate seat. (For precedents, see candidates for the major parties in every election since Federation.)

Second, the Pauline Principle: a right-wing populist nutter could become a senator. (See the National Party benches.)

Third, the Piggy Fulcrum Conundrum: an unrepresentative candidate with a narrow agenda could end up with the balance of power in the Senate, holding the deciding vote on our $800 billion economy. (See Brian Harradine and Bob Brown.)

All these dangers are real but they are intrinsic to the democratic process, not specific to the Pollstar format.

The upside of Pollstar may be a greater engagement in the electoral process by those who currently take no interest. God knows, nothing else has worked up until now.

Now the people have a chance to install one of their own unstable, politically naive feet-of-clay populists in the Senate campaign. All power to them.

Melbourne writer and TV producer Tim Ferguson ran as an independent against Andrew Peacock in the federal seat of Kooyong in 1990.